I wish I could "just" play rugby. I wish I still had the energy I possessed when I first fell in love with this game. But it's being sucked away. Not my love for the game, or my desire to play it...but any wish to be involved on the administrative side of my club.
When I started playing, our club was run by the captain and our coach. Just a year into playing, I took on the de facto leader position. Not because I possessed some amazing ability to motivate and organize, but because I was the only one who stepped forward to do it. There was a learning curve involved, but I have to say I didn't do too bad. My passion for rugby was burning through me and I wanted to do all I could to keep my team going.
For a few years, things stayed the same. The coach and I taking care of the administrative side of things. Through good and bad, we weathered on. I had latched on to rugby because it filled a space in my life, and I was more than happy to take on the responsibility and duties that came along with running a club. I would have welcomed more input, because I hated feeling like a dictator, and that every decision was up to me. But it seemed most of my teammates wanted only one thing, to play.
Then we made a change, one I wholeheartedly embraced. Some new blood had come into the club with a much more organized vision and much more experience in how a successful club was supposed to be run. So we set up a charter, and actually elected officers for the first time -- since I'd been playing. Things seemed to go well that first season. I was VP, a role I was happy to fulfill, it felt like a bit of the pressure was off -- and I could focus on playing. We joined league play, and though we had a losing record, we were very pleased with what we'd accomplished that season. Simply having enough people to travel to our away games, and not forfeit, was a triumph for us.
Then spring season rolled around and something was different. I started the season with as much enthusiasm as always, but things just weren't right. We struggled for numbers, people were dissatisfied with practices, teammates who were normally rock-steady became hard to pin down. I began to feel it. My spirit became weary. I was tired of the leadership role. Tired of having to constantly babysit people to make sure we'd have enough people on the pitch for a match. Maybe I'd been handholding too much up to that point, but I became very disappointed with the accountability of some of my teammates. I wrote that season off as a fluke, praying nothing like it would happen again.
Summer came and I had a break from rugby. In the past we'd done summer conditioning practices and 7's with the men's team, but that didn't happen much. The chance to breathe was great. I thought I would come back to rugby renewed. But as each summer day passed and fall inched closer, the apprehension grew. Our team always talks about recruiting and we know it is one of our weaknesses. Yet, all we seem to do is talk. Action is hard to come by, other than posting fliers left and right. We finally took action and began having a booth at the Farmer's Market in downtown Des Moines on Saturday mornings. We did it in conjunction with the youth coordinator and the men's team, but we did a lion's share of the work. From it, I think we gained one player. She's great, has experience, and is a definite asset to our team. But that whole experience highlighted another of our problems, finding people who HAVE NEVER PLAYED and making them believers.
Fall season was a disaster. Though practices and team morale were actually very positive, we just didn't have the numbers we needed to compete in league. We were constantly short. Embarrassingly short and we shouldn't have been. We had to forfeit our two away games at Milwaukee and Madison. Milwaukee, we were at least able to give a little notice to, since we knew early in the week we would not have enough to travel. Madison was a shocker. We knew we would be traveling short, but we still had enough to play and not forfeit. Then the day of the match, we were meeting up on the edge of Des Moines to divide up into our carpool rides, and some teammates who had confirmed the night before JUST DIDN'T SHOW. We can't reach them, they aren't answering their phones. We didn't know what to do. We were under the number that would have allowed us to travel and not forfeit the match. Was it worth it to drive five hours to get creamed by a team that had just dropped down from D-I, when the match would still be recorded as a forfeit? We decided to leave it up to Madison. We were already running late by that point, but I contacted as many Madison girls as I had numbers for, only getting voicemail. We offered to come if they still wanted us to, but they needed to let us know by a certain time(because we were already late). We waited about 15 minutes past that time, and decided to disband. About 10 minutes after that, I got a phone call from Blondie, telling us we should still come. Boy did I feel like crap at that point. I respect and admire Blondie quite a bit, and to have to disappoint her and her team was a tough pill to swallow. The rest of the season was disappointing as well.
Through it all, I kept wishing I wasn't a club officer anymore. I wished I didn't have a care in the world, other than playing. I had seriously considered not running for office again, but once again, there wasn't anyone offering to step into a leadership role and take my place. I felt stagnant. Almost as if the problems the club has are because we need new blood, new ideas, someone else with the fire I once had.
I love rugby. I love my team. But I don't want my passion for this sport to be doused by the endless/thankless administrative tasks.
I want someone to step up, so I can PLAY.
None other than Curtis Stone, the earlier mentioned crush. Curtis is the host of "Take Home Chef" on TLC. Brooke made a b-line towards him so we'd be able to get a picture with him before the reception ended -- and dare I hope -- a few words. 
